


The Tuxedo Contingency

by NAMINEM



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9159727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NAMINEM/pseuds/NAMINEM
Summary: On that night of New Year's Eve, William had prepared himself for every possibility: for business propositions, for unpleasant small talk with strangers, and even for drunken folly. But he had certainly not anticipated this.





	

There was a small scratch on the side of his cufflink.

In the dim light at the edge of Chamber’s ballroom, it was nearly invisible to the naked eye. However, when William ran his fingertip over the area, he could feel the unevenness that revealed the offending scar to him. And once he had become aware of it, it was impossible to ignore.

William had never understood New Year’s Eve parties. What was the point in celebrating new beginnings when there were none?

It was irrational. Insane, even.

Days, weeks, months, years—all of these terms were invented to make sense of a world that never would. People liked to believe that everything restarted with the New Year, but this was untrue. Time would simply slog onward as it always did, indifferent to the labels placed upon it by philosophers and scientists long since dead.

Ultimately, this coming year would be no different from the one that was now ending. This had been the case of the previous year, as well. And—of course—the one before that, and the one before that…

The dim light of the ballroom was even dimmer where William was standing at its outskirts, as far as possible from the entrance. From the ceiling, crystal chandeliers emitted soft yellow light. For those gathered in the center of the room, exchanging greetings, pleasantries, and gossip, this lighting was adequate—perhaps even ambient. But from William’s position, most of the light was obstructed by the overhanging balcony of the upper level, which cast a shadow along the floor closest to the walls. A series of windows lined the wall just behind him, from which came a slight, bluish glow from the moonlight reflecting off of the new snow, but this did not make it easier to see the scratch on his cufflink.

At the start of every year, lies disguised as promises would billow in the air. In fact, it was not so long ago that he was fed these yearly falsehoods by someone he thought he could trust. Under bedsheets, over tea, and by fireplaces, these sweet words had risen from soft, red lips like sacred vows. For his ears and his ears alone.

_This year, I will become a better person._

_This year, I will stop picking fights with people at your workplace._

_This year, I will stop slashing your rivals’ tires._

_This year, I will stop sleeping with other men._

_This year…_

He had learned to stop believing in New Year’s resolutions. Circumstances may change but people rarely do.

And when they do, it is usually not for the better.

He had been standing by the windows for so long that the chill from outside was now seeping through the glass and into his skin. He shivered briefly and grimaced at the room at large.

A sea of formal attire swam before his eyes: men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns. In all honesty, it was rather absurd. What was their host playing at with the invitations—asking for a black tie dress code but preceding the requirement with the promise of a “casual party to welcome in the New Year”?

Well, there really was no reason to ask; the answer was self-evident.

Mr. Aleistor Chamber was a pretentious man. The shimmering, cream floor and golden décor of his ballroom alone made it obvious. And if that didn’t, the fountain surely did.

And oh, _that bloody fountain._

In the very center of the room was a large, three-tiered, marble fountain. Golden light from its basin illuminated the spouting tendrils of water and the sculptures atop it—a gaggle of cherubs poised with harps, flutes, and horns as if to play a song. The light from the fountain did give the center of the room a certain glow, but that did not really make up for how much of a nuisance it was otherwise.

A couple dozen or so small, circular tables draped in white had been set up for guests to use. However, to accommodate the fountain’s size and position, they orbited the marble structure like cluttered planets around a gaudy sun, and much of the useable floor space was lost.

Wealthy corporate inheritor or not, there was no viable reason for their host to have this thing in the middle of a ballroom. It was an obstruction, and a ludicrous one, at that.

As if thinking rude things about his fountain was a means of summoning him, the busy throng of party attendees shifted in a way to allow the man himself to appear in William’s line of sight. Chamber was still a considerable distance away, so at first, he was more of a blinding mass of white and yellow invading his senses than anything else. Once William’s eyes had adjusted, however, their host’s figure came into focus.

Chamber’s tuxedo was pure white and appeared to be made of silk. It was clearly expensive, but William thought he ought not to have purchased it at all. His pale blond hair was perfectly trimmed, and it glittered in the fountain’s light like—well, rather like tinsel, actually. What on earth had he put in it to make it look so appallingly fake? It was bemusing, certainly, but it wasn’t completely a surprise; after all, Chamber’s hair was not the only thing about him that appeared artificial.

Currently, the flamboyant host was speaking to a group of his guests. He wore a smile that seemed suave and pleasant enough at a glance, but when one really looked, it was easy to see that it was contrived: a little too even and a tad too many teeth. And really, William was sure that nearly everything about the man would be proven false if someone took the time to observe.

This man was such an unpleasant combination of flashiness and deception that looking at him caused William to feel ill.

Unbidden from recent memory, the voice of William’s boss entered his thoughts:

 _“Now, William, we both know how bothered you can get by men like Mr. Chamber.”_ These words had been accented by the man’s signature cackle. _“But he’s a friend to us, and I would like to keep it that way. So play nice.”_

William sighed. His superior was an eccentric man (thus earning the strange nickname “Undertaker”), but he understood how to run a business. Mr. Chamber had been one of their most loyal customers for a few years now, and William’s personal opinion of the man did not matter. He had to maintain their relationship in his boss’s stead. For the sake of the company.

And if William T. Spears was nothing else, he was a devoted and efficient employee.

As proof of his dedication to the business, he had planned his evening meticulously. Every possibility and every outcome was considered so that nothing would go amiss.

If someone asked about the business, he would summarize the necessary details.

_We are a company specializing in wood carved products such as bureaus, wardrobes, home décor, and embellishments. (Plus the occasional coffin if you ask the right person.)_

If he or she showed further interest, he would explain how to contact them.

_You can find us at… Our number is… If you set up an appointment in advance, you may visit our building, which is located at…_

If the host approached him, he would thank him for his hospitality.

_Arrogant prick._

William scowled and twisted his cufflink. Quickly remembering himself, however, he inhaled deeply and held his arm up to the light of the fountain to get a better look at his sleeve. The contrasting fabric of his black tuxedo sleeve and the cuff of his white dress shirt made it all the more obvious that the latter was now rumpled from how much he had been pulling at it.

He narrowed his eyes and humphed. Really now, he was wrinkling his clothes? How unprofessional.

It was while William was inspecting his sleeve that an unusual motion in his periphery seized his attention: a dark, blurry figure passing slowly by the fountain.

He adjusted his gaze to settle on this figure, which he now realized was a tall man in black; he had ebony hair (cut to follow his jawline) and a tuxedo in the same color. He strolled beside the fountain, hands in his pockets, eyes on the cherubs, and head tilted slightly, as if he were studying the sculptures with mild intrigue. His posture was somehow both relaxed and intentional, and for reasons William could not determine, he seemed out of place in the room. When he reached the side of the fountain, he turned partially, which made it possible for William to see his face. Framed by his dark hair was an amused smirk.

The man began to walk back the way he came, perhaps to study the cherubs from a different angle, when something happened that William had not prepared for.

As if by some force above his understanding, the man turned toward him. The two of them locked eyes.

William’s breath caught in his throat. As he was looking into this stranger’s eyes, he could swear that the light from the fountain was changing around his dark, trim figure—as if warped by his presence in some manner.

Like a black hole.

The impersonal, yellow light of the fountain was now warm, wild, and inviting. (So inviting, in fact, that William felt as if a hand had clenched around his bowtie and was attempting to drag him into it.)

William realized quite abruptly that he had been staring for far too long to be appropriate, and his surroundings snapped back into focus. He quickly averted his gaze and attempted to ignore the heat crawling up his neck. Why had this particular man—one of many party guests clustered in the room—captured his attention?

After several, hesitant seconds, he looked again at the fountain.

The man was no longer there. William scanned the area, but if he’d moved to somewhere else within the ballroom, William could not spot him. The shifting mosaic of suits and dresses made it too difficult.

Shame prickled in his chest then. Why was he even looking for him?

This wasn’t just a strange flight of fancy in which anything was possible. This was reality.

That man was just another guest at this party—a stranger whom he would not see again.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how foolish it was.

William stepped back as far as he could, pressing his shoulders to the window. It was jarringly cold but he did not move away. Instead, he folded his arms, despite knowing how it might wrinkle his clothes.

He preferred his business suits, anyway.

Honestly. From a business suit to a tuxedo. He was certainly out of his element, wasn’t he?

Exhaling slowly, William let his eyes wander about the ballroom. Some guests had begun to populate the small tables around the fountain, conversing in groups and occasionally breaking out into laughter. And from what William could see of the second floor of the ballroom, tables had also been set up along the balcony, and a handful of guests were lounging up there, looking important and smug about it. (Some of Chamber’s wealthier guests, perhaps?)

From the other side of the room came the hollow groan of a bow sliding across cello strings, pulling William’s attention.

Near the entrance, Chamber’s hired orchestra had begun to play. Guests were quickly drawn toward the music, and many of them began to dance.

There were pairs among them, of course. Couples. He noticed one pair especially: a man and a woman. Their hands were interlocked tenderly. She was resting her head on his shoulder. He was smiling.

For a small, dangerous moment, William felt envy churning in his chest. But then he thought of the fighting and the manipulation and the pain, and he remembered it was better this way. Easier.

He leaned further back against the window, getting comfortable, and he continued to watch the dancing pair but now with condemnation. Her footwork was erratic. His was clumsy.

They were both idiots.

For a quarter of an hour, his thoughts continued in this manner (even after the couple had stopped dancing).

But he was then interrupted by a voice from his left. A clearly masculine voice, but a smooth, dulcet one, like liquid silver. “Lovely party, isn’t it?”

Somewhat startled that someone had approached him without him noticing, William was quick to look in the direction of the voice. And he was surprised to find that he recognized the speaker.

It was the same man from earlier. The one who had been by the fountain.

Why on earth had he approached?

William quickly smothered his feelings of bewilderment and confusion and donned the proper expression of a businessman. (After all, he was here on business, not to gape at strangers.) He did as was customary in these situations and prepared to engage in conversation. To show polite attention, he turned to face the man and met his gaze—

And he was subsequently stunned by the eyes that greeted him.

Under thick, dark lashes was a color of such vibrant brown that they couldn’t simply be described by that word alone. His eyes weren’t just brown; no, they were nearly _red_. More than anything else that he could think of, this man’s eyes were the rich color of aged wine.

It was decidedly a terrible idea to converse with this man because when William finally managed to remove his gaze from those eyes, he took in some of the man’s other physicalities—things that he hadn’t perceived from the distance that had separated them previously: prominent cheekbones, full lips in a lopsided smile, a distinct jawbone—

Hold on. He’d been asked a question, hadn’t he?

Shit.

Hastily recalling what the man had said ( _Lovely party…_ ), William cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles. “Yes. I suppose it is.” For the sake of his dignity, he hoped that his silence hadn’t been as long as it had felt.

Was he really so terrible at controlling his impulses?

At the very least, his conversation partner did not seem deterred. His strange smile still sat leisurely upon his face, and he spoke again. “Sorry if I’ve disturbed you. The servers have just gone around, and it looked to me as if they’ve missed you. So I thought I’d bring you a drink.” He then held out a flute of champagne to William, which, as William now noticed, was one of two he was holding.

William gave the ballroom a quick glance. True enough, the other guests had received glasses of champagne and were now conversing with even more enthusiasm and contentment.

Biting back a sigh, he took the offered glass and grumbled quietly, “I’m not surprised.” And really, _could_ he be? He was the only one there who would consider standing at the farthest, darkest side of the room—alone—during a social event.

Well, perhaps he wasn’t the only one at the moment…

The man looked out at the room with an eyebrow quirked. An expression of disapproval. “Allow me to be surprised on your behalf, then. I could see you quite clearly while by the fountain, and it’s probably one of the brightest areas in the room.” He took a small drink from the glass still in his hand. “I’d say those servers aren’t worth their salt; someone ought to dock their pay.”

William gave a quiet grunt in response. He took a drink of the champagne he had been given, using it as an opportunity to fully recompose himself.

The drink introduced itself with its creamy texture and its intricate flavor. Almond and pear. William had had champagne in the past, but never anything quite like this. It tasted like wealth, if it could be reduced to a liquid.

William swallowed his mouthful of champagne and eyed his glass thoughtfully. “Hm. This isn’t bad,” he said, mostly to himself. “Although I would imagine this is the costliest sparkling wine I’ve ever tasted.”

The man held his glass out in front of him, probably in order to see its contents in better light. “I believe it’s Dom Pérignon. 2006, I would venture to say.”

William raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?” He sighed. “Let me guess: it was the frequency of the bubbles and the way the color interacts with the lighting in this particular room in the evening when the sun and the moon are just so…” Realizing how rude that must have sounded, he quickly shut his mouth, and he prepared to receive an affronted glare.

So of course he was taken aback when the man chuckled.

It flowed out from between his gleaming, white teeth with extreme elegance but sounded earnest all the same. Was he really not insulted?

The man quieted and looked at William with his clever smile. “Actually, I just noted the label on the bottle while the server was pouring. But I appreciate that you would think me so capable of identifying champagne.”

William bit his cheek as a way of scolding himself. “I apologize. That was rude of me.”

“No need for apologies. If you ask me, it’s a fair assumption to make. Considering our current location and—well—the general demeanor of our fellow partyers. They would love to boast such a skill, wouldn’t they?” The man paused, taking another sip from his glass and pursing his lips thoughtfully. “While it’s true that I know my fair share about certain wines, bubbly is not so familiar to me.”

Starting to relax again, William drank some more of his champagne. As the bubbles dissolved on his tongue, he considered what the man had just said a little more. He looked over at him again. “Are you a wine enthusiast, then?”

Leisurely, the man slid his free hand into his pocket. “Well, I’ve never been called that before. But I guess you could say the aroma and taste of wines are something I pay attention to.” He paused. “It’s because of my employer. He enjoys wine on occasion, but he’s quite busy. So he has me select and purchase much of his wine for him.”

William was rather befuddled. He furrowed his brow. “That seems like a strange job for someone to give to his employee. Unless it has something to do with your line of business…”

The man tilted his head to the side and shrugged. “It does in a way. I’m an executive assistant. It’s a part of the job to see to personal tasks like that, but I’m sure that even if it wasn’t, I would end up having to do them, anyway.” He raised an eyebrow slyly. “You see, my employer is a particular man; his workers must be able to do their jobs and more if they wish to stay in his employ. To some, that must seem cruel, but I’m quite used to it. In fact...” He gave a quiet chuckle. “I find that his requirements suit me. I felt unchallenged—bored—before I worked for him. This gives my life a little more interest.”

“I see.” William didn’t know what else to say. Certainly, the man’s mindset was unusual, but it made sense in a way. Being challenged was what made life interesting. Or, at least, that was what many people seemed to believe. William wasn’t so sure about that idea, personally. In fact, if the option arose to erase the past few years from existence—his past challenges along with them—he would take it without a second thought. To remove the memory or glimmering eyes and lilting whispers from his mind entirely.

The man spoke up again, jarring William from his musings.

“By the way,” he said, holding out his hand to shake, “my name is Sebastian Michaelis.”

William took the offered hand. His skin was pleasantly warm. “William T. Spears.”

They shook.

The man—Sebastian—replaced his hand in his pocket. “So what brings you to Chamber’s party, Mr. Spears?” He followed up this question with a sip of his drink.

William sighed in annoyance. In the midst of this conversation, he’d almost forgotten he was in the home of a truly irksome man. “My boss. He has business dealings with Mr. Chamber but couldn’t make it. He sent me in his stead as a gesture of good faith.” Of its own accord, his mouth formed a sneer, and he attempted to drown it in a draught of his sparkling wine.

“Well, it certainly sounds like being here wasn’t your first choice. Had other plans?”

The champagne’s taste diffused across his palate again, but this time, he detected something else: was it cocoa? He licked his lips experimentally. “Not exactly. Unless you count staying in, reading a book, and drinking tea…”

Sebastian gazed at him intently, but there was no criticism in his eyes. “You don’t sound like much of a party man.”

William gave a hum of assent. “No.”

“I understand the appeal of staying home. I’d rather have good company or no company at all. These people… Oh, how can I put it?” He made a face imbued with such a combination of boredom and resentment that William had to try very hard not to laugh. Then his expression shifted back to its leisurely smirk with such ease that it was almost like it hadn’t happened at all. “Really, I’m glad I found you when I did. I was losing my mind making _small talk_ and listening to fools hint about their wealth and influence.”

After sipping his champagne, Sebastian continued. “I’m here under similar circumstances to you, actually. My boss has me here looking for potential business partners. But the options are looking slim thus far, to say the least.”

William nodded. “That makes sense. I think there are other things of value besides money, and you have to wonder if a person really has other qualities if all they do is—as you said—indiscreetly imply their monetary value. And if your employer looks for people who are skilled enough to do their job and more, he probably wouldn’t give most of these people a second glance.”

Sebastian’s lopsided smile dropped for a moment as if he were surprised, and then it grew once again, but this time it was equal on both sides. “How perceptive of you, Mr. Spears. Those were exactly my thoughts.” His eyes gleamed in the golden light of the ballroom. He spoke again. “Truly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the sharpest people here.”

William felt his skin heat up a little. He hadn’t expected the compliment. Slightly uncomfortable, he spoke tersely. “Thank you.”

The lopsided smile returned, but it seemed more welcoming than laidback now. “Where do you work, by the way? I certainly hope they value you.”

William’s muscles tensed.

_We are a company specializing in wood carved products such as…_

He’d almost forgotten about his plan.

But was he really going to say that rehearsed drivel to _this man_? It left a bitter feeling in his mouth just thinking about it. It was his duty, of course, but it felt almost disgraceful to expose his humdrum existence to this captivating fellow before him.

Sebastian must have sensed his confliction. “You seem hesitant to talk about it.”

William considered his words carefully. To buy himself more time, he drank from his champagne glass; it was nearly empty now. He swallowed slowly. “Because I am here to represent my boss, I can’t agree with that statement in good conscience. But I also cannot disagree…”

Sebastian’s smirk grew. “Allow me to change the subject, then.” He looked through the window and out into the snow and the night. “Are you cold?”

Caught off guard by the question, William balked. “Um. Excuse me?”

“It’s rather cold over here, don’t you think?”

“Oh.” Well, sure; William had been aware of the cold to an extent. But until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how chilled his fingers were and that his back, which was still pressed against the glass of the window, had gone numb.

It was rather uncomfortable, actually.

He took a step away from the window and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to return some feeling to them. “Perhaps it is.”

“I know it’s not exactly the most tasteful thing to look at, but it’s warmer near the fountain,” Sebastian said, and he gestured in the direction of the tables draped in white. “Shall we?”

~~~

On that night of New Year’s Eve, William had prepared himself for every possibility: for business propositions, for unpleasant small talk with strangers, and even for drunken folly. But he had certainly not anticipated this.

Whatever this was, exactly.

At their chosen table, he and Sebastian had discussed a variety of subjects with ease and interest: music, architecture, current events, and _perhaps_ they reveled in criticizing their host’s questionable tastes (but no one but them could confirm this to be true; they had been careful to not be overheard lest someone tell Mr. Chamber himself.) Sebastian had recounted some interesting stories about other employees in his company, many of whom were in the habit of causing disasters and leaving him to clean up the messes. William had sympathized greatly, and had told Sebastian of his own experiences with co-workers’ mishaps. Sebastian had expressed a love for cooking. (“I suppose you could say it’s a hobby of mine,” he had said.) William had then ventured to share his passion for the fine arts and was relieved when Sebastian responded with interest. (Sebastian had smiled longingly. “If only I had more time—I would visit more galleries and listen to more music.”)

Currently, they were speaking about wine.

Sebastian was sharing his extensive knowledge on the subject, talking about vineyards, harvests, regions, and tastes. And William listened intently.

Or at least he thought he was. Several times he caught himself losing track of Sebastian’s words and simply watching his lips move.

After a time, Sebastian paused. He gazed wistfully at his glass of champagne, which at some point had been refilled by a passing server and now glowed wondrously in the fountain’s light. He sighed. “This bubbly certainly isn’t bad, but I wouldn’t mind a solid merlot about now.”

William nodded once. “That would be nice. A large glass of aged red wine…” As if he were unable to control his own movements, his gaze fell upon Sebastian’s sublime eyes, but he forced himself to look away. He took a long swallow of his champagne in hopes of drowning any additional unwanted thoughts.

Sebastian was… much more interesting than he had expected.

As he always was, William would be honest with himself: Sebastian was quite attractive physically. But he had thought that would be the end of his redeeming qualities. It seemed, however, that he was also a knowledgeable and cultured man with quick wit. And it became apparent after sitting with him for some time that he put effort into his grooming because William was sure he detected a pleasant scent from across the table. It was smoky yet fresh. Images of forests and rain and charred wood flashed through his mind. He recognized the scent… but what was it? Pleasant though it was, it was too subtle for William to place.

But William wouldn’t dare disclose any of these ridiculous musings. Because while Sebastian seemed interested in him, maybe it was only in friendship? Or perhaps William was misreading him altogether, and he was simply being polite to a stranger.

_Honestly, William, does it really matter what he thinks of you? This is most certainly not going anywhere, so stop thinking of such things! You are a man of intelligence and expertise, lest you forget! Control yourself!_

Attempting to do as his thoughts demanded, William turned his attention away from Sebastian and instead toward the room at large. It was then that he noticed how the atmosphere had changed.

First, he took note of the ballroom’s occupants. Many of them had joined Sebastian and William by moving to tables, and it seemed that there was a general dispersion of guests—a forming of tight groups that left much of the open floor empty of people. And William also got the impression that there were not as many bodies in the room as before, even though the noise level was about the same. (Perhaps the champagne could be blamed for that.) He then realized that the orchestra had stopped playing. They seemed to be milling about near their instruments now, so it was likely they were taking a break after playing for a good stretch of time.

William was surprised at himself for his lack of awareness. “Goodness, how long have we been sitting here? It’s like we’re in a completely different room with how everyone has settled down,” he remarked.

“Well,” Sebastian said, stretching out his arm to reveal a rose gold wristwatch. “It’s about half-ten. Maybe they’re conserving their energy for the big hurrah at midnight.” He smiled in wry amusement. “Or perhaps the busy and the drunk have gone home, hm?” While still gazing at William, he adjusted his watch, undoing and redoing the clasp, and tugged at his cuff to straighten it.

Even this simple action enthralled William. He had such deft hands…

The growing sound of a pair of shoes tapping against tile gave William the indication that someone was approaching them. But because his gaze was on Sebastian, he only saw the approaching person when they were right beside their table. And by then it was too late to flee.

Because that was what he wanted to do when he saw white silk in his periphery.

“Hello, gentleman!” sang the pompous, white mass.

William felt as if his insides were writhing as he looked up into the face of Aleistor Chamber.

Hardly waiting the entire span of a breath for a response to his greeting, the host of their party continued. “It’s so wonderful that you could join me this evening! Really, I am quite pleased.” Seemingly without prompting, he struck a theatrical pose, placing one hand on his chest and thrusting a champagne glass toward his gilded ceiling with the other. “Bathed in this glorious golden light, we come together as friends with the unified purpose of ringing in the New Year!” He gave a sigh of delight. “How exhilarating, no?”

William’s jaw had clenched so tightly that he found it difficult to respond. However, for the sake of propriety, he made a strenuous effort and managed to grind something out from between his teeth. “Indeed—"

“I do hope you’re enjoying my party,” Chamber added, and he gave no indication that he had heard William speak at all. However, while it seemed that he had been talking to the air between him and Sebastian up to this point, he finally gave William his real attention. “Say, I recognize that face. You work with _him_ —Undertaker!” He gave a short guffaw. “What a delightful man he is! William Spears, isn’t it?”

William bristled and glared at him form the corner of his eye. “It’s William _T._ Spears, thank you.”

From across the table, Sebastian gave a short lurch forward and his lips quivered as if he were attempting to hold back a laugh.

Chamber stared at William for a long moment. His smile remained, but it was slowly diminishing on one side, like butter melting in a warm pan. He must have been baffled that someone would show any form of disrespect to him and was at a loss as to how to react. With sudden conviction, his grin increased twofold, and his head swiveled in Sebastian’s direction. Although he seemed to make an attempt at his previous enthusiasm, his voice sounded notably curter. “And you are?”

Having pulled himself together rather quickly, Sebastian stood from his chair with a cultivated smile and shook Chamber’s hand. “Sebastian Michaelis. I represent the Funtom Corporation.”

Aleistor Chamber’s strained expression turned into genuine awe in an instant. He tittered, shaking Sebastian’s hand more vigorously. “Oh what a pleasure it is to have you in my humble home! But—erm”—his movement stuttered and then ceased altogether—“I was under the impression that Ciel Phantomhive would be here…?”

William’s eyebrows rose. _Ciel Phantomhive?_ That name certainly sounded familiar. Where had he heard it before?

“Apologies, Mr. Chamber,” Sebastian said. “I’m afraid my employer is otherwise engaged this evening.”

Then an image came to William’s mind of a young man with deep blue eyes and a hardened scowl. So _he_ was Sebastian’s employer?

Aleistor made a flapping gesture with his hand as if to show easy acceptance. “That’s fine, that’s fine…” However, the strained expression had returned again. “Do let Mr. Phantomhive know I said hello. I hope we can work together in the future.” He took a step back from Sebastian. “Anyhow, I really must be off now. Being a host is busy work!” He gave an unconvincing laugh. “Enjoy the rest of the evening—please, drink as much champagne as you like.” With that said, he walked around their table and began on his way again.

Instinctively, William called to Chamber’s back before he could be out of earshot. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

When there was no response, William refocused his attention on Sebastian, who was settling back into his seat. He leaned forward in interest. “So you work for Ciel Phantomhive? Isn’t he one of the youngest CEOs in London?”

Sebastian smiled. “That’s right. He’s twenty-six.”

William raised his brows in playful disbelief. “And he has you buy his wine?”

Sebastian stared for a moment, as if working out what William had said, and then he laughed. He laughed completely unlike how he had laughed before. This time, it felt unrefined and unrestrained—but just as pleasant to hear. Once his laughter had become more subdued, he spoke again. “You certainly are a clever one, William _T._ Spears.” He chuckled again and picked up his champagne glass. “I like that in a man.” Then he took a drink.

William froze for a moment. Did he hear that last part correctly? It sounded as if he was stating a preference for men…

Was he?

Before he could truly decide how to interpret this phrase, Sebastian set his glass down decisively upon the table. “Anyway,” he began, and he pushed back his chair. “Not that I wouldn’t _love_ to spend the rest of the night in the delightful company of Mr. Chamber”—he stood and brushed down his tuxedo jacket to work out any forming wrinkles—“but I’m keen to see if the rest of this mansion is as—well… _lavishly_ decorated as the ballroom.” A devilish smile flashed across his features for a moment, and then he looked into William’s eyes. “Care to join me?”

William stared. Join him? “I… I thought you said you were here on business. Wouldn’t it appear unprofessional to just…?”

Sebastian adjusted his watch again. ( _Oh, no._ ) “I’ve already determined that no one here is a worthy candidate for my employer’s business.”

William blinked at Sebastian in confusion. Sebastian had been sitting with him nearly the entire party! “How did you manage to determine that? Have you spoken to everyone already?”

Giving a look of sly self-satisfaction, Sebastian tugged on both sides of his bowtie. “Well, I do consider myself one hell of an assistant…” He trailed off briefly. “So what do you think?”

What _did_ he think?

For starters, it was quite possible that he was misinterpreting Sebastian’s words. Perhaps he had simply meant to express appreciation for conversation partners who had considerable wit. (And if Sebastian had meant it as something else and it came up again… Well, he could just deal with that if it happened.)

Plus, after his unpleasant behavior toward Mr. Chamber, it would be wise of him to find a way to lessen the insult. Perhaps after looking around his mansion for a bit with Sebastian, he could return to the ballroom and compliment Aleistor on his interior design. That seemed like something he would appreciate.

Despite these thoughts, there was a part of William that still ached with ambivalence, but he found himself accepting the invitation all the same:

“Lead the way.”

~~~

William and Sebastian passed a group of party attendees who were perhaps partially drunk—just as they were—and had wandered a little ways off from the majority of the other guests. And as his debonair companion led him deeper into the darker, vacant portions of the mansion, the small pack burst into mirthful laughter, which grew gradually fainter as their distance from them increased.

They climbed a set of stairs, then another. The third floor. This portion of the mansion was different from the ballroom. Without the fountain-light, the rooms and hallways were quite a bit darker. Only small, occasional wall sconces lit the space. Any other illumination came from outside, through windows. The area utilized deep woodgrains throughout: dark reds and rich ochres instead of cream and gold.

Carved, ornate patterns were visible upon columns, along the floor trim, and even within the occasional alcoves displaying sculptures or various potted plants. Intermingling with most of these items were ropes of garland.

William looked into one of the alcoves now. Within it was a sculpture. An abstract piece. He gave a short hum of consideration. “This section of the mansion isn’t half bad. Maybe Mr. Chamber doesn’t have such horrible tastes, after all.”

From somewhere behind him, Sebastian replied. William could easily hear the amusement in his voice, as if he was only just managing to contain himself. “Oh, are you quite sure about that?”

William turned to find Sebastian standing further along down the hall, next to another yet slightly larger alcove. (Considering its size, it was likely meant to be the centerpiece of the hallway.) He gestured at it with a devious grin on his face.

William approached. What Sebastian had brought to his attention was a large sculpture of a peacock. The subject itself wasn’t horrible, but the fact that the thing appeared to be made _entirely of gold_ was too much for him to take.

William nearly doubled over due to the pain inflicted on his aesthetic sensibilities. What he wanted to say was “Please, no,” but what came out sounded more like a dying wheeze than words. When he caught his breath, however, he managed to speak, if only just:

“I take it back.”

Sebastian snickered impishly.

After William recovered, the two wandered for a time, discussing the various decorations they came across. Some, William thought, were decent. And others were tasteless. Absolutely lacking in substance or vision.

At least those made an interesting topic of conversation.

Soon, however, they ran out of décor to criticize, and this created a lapse in their conversation. This wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet, however, because the orchestra had recently struck up again, and so they walked together through the mansion, the distant sound of music filling the space between them.

When the orchestra’s current song came to an end with a flourish, Sebastian looked at William.

“I’m glad that we’ve met, Mr. Spears. Truly, I think this party would have been much more tedious for me if we hadn’t.”

William hesitated for a moment before speaking. “The feeling is mutual.” He paused, his gaze forward. “I’ve been wondering… what made you decide to bring me a drink in the first place? It wasn’t your problem if the servers missed me, after all.”

Sebastian released an amused breath at this. “It’s funny you say that, really, because I thought I was being too obvious: I was looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

William stared, surprised. Really, he could think of no way to respond.

Thankfully, Sebastian continued. “And to think I could have so easily missed that opportunity. I could have spent the rest of my evening with that dolt and his herd of sycophants.”

William’s immediate reaction was to laugh at this apt turn of phrase, and he covered his mouth to hide his snicker. However, he then realized how rude this comment was, and if someone were to hear… “Is it really the right time to say things like that? We _are_ guests in his home at the moment.”

Sebastian sighed in overemphasized exasperation. “Ah, Mr. Spears. I admire your dedication to rules, but when you are so concerned about propriety, it damages your quality of life.”

William crossed his arms, but he wasn’t actually very bothered. “I am not _that_ concerned about propriety.”

“All right, all right. Then let’s say that you are only concerned about propriety _sometimes_ —right now for instance. It is my belief that when that happens, you miss important opportunities.”

William quirked an eyebrow in lighthearted skepticism. “The only opportunities I think I would miss are the ones in which I run into trouble.”

“And that thinking of yours is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t even see the possibilities. Why, with that attitude, one can’t help but wonder—” He paused abruptly. “Sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t say.” Despite saying this, the grin on his face and the glint of intention in his eyes made it clear that he wished for William to press for more information.

And William had no reason not to oblige. “No, no… ‘Shouldn’t say’ what? Tell me.”

“It’s nothing significant, I assure you—”

“Go on. Out with it.”

With a chuckle and an assenting hand gesture, Sebastian elaborated. “One can’t help but wonder… when it last was that you were kissed.”

William’s stomach did a small flip. He certainly hadn’t expected him to say that. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so he went for sarcasm. “Oh, _ha hah_.”

With his smirk still upon his face, Sebastian continued onward, giving no indication if this was the correct response or not.

Confused, William allowed the conversation to lull.

What on earth was he supposed to make of that? Surely, it had to be a joke; a playful jab in his direction.

Or had he been flirting?

This thought caused simultaneous feelings of anticipation and dread to swell within him. Truly, Sebastian was an intriguing person, and if William had met him several years ago, he probably would have made a very strong effort to capture his attention. But now…

Two voices debated in his head.

_You hardly know anything about this man. He could be a psychopath, for all you know._

He works at a toys and sweets company; how awful could he be?

_You never know. And would you really like to take the risk?_

True. It would probably be unwise. But—

_Oh no, not a but…_

But I just want to know what it meant. What does he want from me?

_Doesn’t matter._

Is there really any harm in asking?

_Of course there is._

Sebastian said I was missing opportunities—

_Oh, come on, do you really believe that tosh?_

Yes. No. Damn it, I don’t know. I will just _ask_. One question. Nothing more.

_You’re only making this harder. Please just don’t—_

“Who’s wondering?”

_I can’t believe you just said that._

Sebastian turned, a questioning expression on his face. “Hm?”

_Good, he didn’t hear you. This is your chance to withdraw. Say “never mind”—_

“You said ‘one’ wonders, so who is interested in this information? If it’s really such an intriguing topic that one ‘can’t help’ but wonder, give an example.”

_William, you lummox, what are you doing?! Seems as if the champagne has got you making poor choices._

The playful smile returned to Sebastian’s face. “Oh, I’m sure many people are interested. You’re an interesting man, after all. Despite your efforts to be the opposite, it seems.” He sighed and shook his head in mock pity. “So prudish.” He paused as if mulling over his options, but then he acquiesced. “All right, you’ve caught me. _I_ can’t help but wonder.”

William felt warmth growing in his cheeks but hoped it wasn’t noticeable in the dim lighting. That answer seemed… confirming. Clearing his throat, he made an attempt at a response. “Well, if you’re the one who’s curious, I have no qualms against answering.”

_You should, you idiot._

He swallowed. His throat felt dry. “It’s true, it _has_ been a while...”

_This will lead to nowhere good and you know it—_

Sebastian chuckled in a triumphant sort of way. Perhaps he had anticipated this answer. Or maybe he had been hoping for it?

_That’s enough. Enough with this conversation, enough with those thoughts. You’ve had your fun, but if you keep at this, it’s only a matter of time until… It’s time to stop._

Yet William wanted to say more. It felt about as comfortable as sawing off a leg to escape a shackle, but he managed to speak. “But what does that matter? The past is dull. It’s more interesting to think what will happen in the future.”

_William, why are you doing this?! Why are you doing this to yourself again?! You would inflict such pain upon yourself—_

The air stilled so abruptly and so forcefully that the voice in William’s head went silent.

Sebastian’s expression changed before William’s eyes. The mischief disappeared. In its place, a smirk so soft it was almost nonexistent; eyes half-lidded yet alight like candle flames. He stepped slowly toward William. “You think so?”

William tried to think of a response, but his mind was blank.

Sebastian was close now—so very close that he nearly filled William’s field of vision—and William only now noticed that he had been backed up against a wall. Any attempts at a reply died in his throat as he was struck by the entirety of Sebastian Michaelis.

The heat that radiated off of his skin was almost too hot—exhilarating—all-encompassing—enticing and sinful. His scent filled William’s nostrils, and—oh, of course! It was _cedar_. Definitely, irrefutably cedar.

William felt his pulse quickening, and he tried to control his breathing.

“Your pupils are dilated,” Sebastian murmured lowly and sultrily. His fingertips brushed across William’s cheek, soft and featherlike.

“Are they?” William breathed. He could think of nothing better to say; Sebastian’s touch and his scent—oh, that heady scent!—were muddling his thoughts and making it rather difficult to think of repartee.

It was at this moment that midnight struck. It started with the large clock in the foyer, which began to play a wholesome series of notes. Then clocks throughout the mansion joined in and started to chime. On every floor, hidden away in unexplored rooms, tucked away in corners—for the most part unseen but certainly heard.

The Grandfathers and the Carriages and the Cartels: all collaborating to create a crescendo of sound that echoed and rose throughout the mansion.

The chimes reached their peak, a storm of bell-sounds surrounding them, and William’s breath caught in his throat. It held such power that he felt it buzzing under his skin and running through his veins like adrenaline. His pulse jumped in his neck—his heart hammered in his chest.

The moment almost felt as if it would last forever and yet it was gone too soon. Shortly, the chimes began to fall away, one clock at a time, until there was silence. A deafening silence in the wake of such a sound.

Realizing that he had been holding his breath, William exhaled shakily.

Sebastian had looked toward the heart of the mansion when the chimes began, but his gaze now returned to William. The candle flames in his eyes had grown to hearth fires. In the same soft, enticing tone as before, he spoke. “Happy New Year, Mr. Spears.” Then he slowly began to lean in.

Time seemed to stand still for William. In the matter of an instant, a myriad of thoughts flew through his mind like images on a cinematic reel—lucid dreams and living nightmares circling each other in rapid succession—

This was a terrible idea—

Screaming—laughter—shattered dishware on the floor—warm arms around his shoulders—

He couldn’t do this, what would his boss think—

Sebastian’s silver laughter—a voice screaming death threats through the phone—amorous whispers in the early morning—broken ribs as his ex’s car sped away—Sebastian’s dark form framed by the golden light of the fountain—

And imaginings of a future.

Something _new_.

Oh, fuck it. He was tired of always guarding himself against potentialities.

And why the hell not? It was the New Year, after all.

In one swift movement, William seized Sebastian by the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and dragged him in, crashing their lips together.

Sebastian’s lips were soft and warm, and they formed a smile as their owner chuckled into the kiss.

The two of them were so close that William felt the chuckle just as much as he heard it, and it excited him. He pressed his lips more firmly to Sebastian’s and tilted his head a little to get a better angle.

Suddenly, a tongue flicked across his lips. A jolt of pleasure passed through William’s body, and he gave a shuddering breath. Then he parted his lips, granting Sebastian further access to his mouth.

Sebastian was quick to take the invitation.

Of course, he tasted mostly of champagne, but there was also some other hint of a taste that was undoubtedly unique to him. It was like fire. Rich and tantalizing. A taste William was sure he could become addicted to with ease.

William released one of Sebastian’s lapels and reached up to slide his fingers through that glorious, ebony hair.

Sebastian’s hands found William’s hips, and William melted immediately into his steady hold.

From there, William lost track of who was doing what. Hands wandered, wrinkling clothes and disheveling hair. Hot breath intermingled between two mouths. There were quiet gasps and occasional moans. And—

The airy, unpleasant voice of Chamber cut through the heated air. “Oh my, celebrating the New Year already, I see.”

Clearly, he was developing a proclivity for interrupting at the worst times.

William and Sebastian separated and turned to look at their host, who had just stepped into their chosen hallway. Hints of amusement slipped through his formulaic smile.

William felt that his cheeks were heated in a flush, but it was not from embarrassment of doing something improper.

He was irritated.

And to make this clear, he set his frostiest stare upon their intruder and thought of murder.

Any amusement in Chamber’s face quickly dissipated, and he quailed under William’s glare. Averting his gaze, he gave a nervous, little laugh. “Well, I’m just going to change my outfit for the New Year and then I’ll be out of your hair.” He shuffled carefully by the pair, as if getting within a certain distance might result in serious injury. “Can I—just… squeeze by…?” he squeaked. “Thank you…”

The two watched him go until he turned around a corner and out of sight.

Then Sebastian whistled softly and looked back at William with a chuckle. Something like admiration adorned his lovely features. “Nicely done. I’ll wager he’s never been so uncertain of himself in his life.”

But William was no longer in the mood for jokes, and he pressed his lips to Sebastian’s again before the conversation could go any further. Between kisses, he spoke. “I’m tired of this party. Let’s leave.”

Upon saying this, he felt the wry smile grow on Sebastian’s lips.

“I’ll call a cab.”

~~~

Despite the fact that it was late morning, the bedroom was still mostly in shadow. Only small strings of light managed to get inside by passing between the dark curtains drawn over the window opposite the bed. Most of this light pointed uselessly about the room, striking objects at random: a mahogany wardrobe against the wall, a violin case in the corner, a framed photograph of a dozing black and white cat. Eventually, however, one ray of light found its mark.

It danced across the king-sized bed and flickered briefly over the closed eye of its dozing occupant. A guest in the home of Michaelis.

William’s face, previously relaxed in sleep, scrunched in discomfort. With a harrumph of distaste, he blearily opened one eye, and he looked to where he expected to find his alarm clock on his nightstand. However, the alarm clock he saw was strangely unlike his. It had red numbers instead of blue ones, for one thing. And for another, it was on an unfamiliar nightstand next to an even more unfamiliar lamp.

Bewildered, William opened both eyes and sat upright. His next instinct was to retrieve his spectacles, which—after squinting at the room—he found on the nightstand, just behind the alarm clock. With his vision now clear, he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

The room was arranged much differently from his own, yet there was a certain amount of familiarity to it, as well. The color scheme was warmer but no less sophisticated for it, in his opinion. The room also seemed to be slightly larger than his own, but there actually seemed to be less in it despite that. And when the image of a golden peacock invaded his thoughts, William found comfort in the lack of surplus.

On his left, there was a closet. Just across from him was a large window, its curtains drawn. And on his right, there was a wardrobe and a closed door beside it. Considering there were no other doors, he concluded that this one was the way to the rest of the house.

He looked over the bed he was in. The duvet was black, and the grey sheets were soft against his skin. More skin than he expected to be in contact with the sheets, in fact. Was he…?

William shifted slightly.

Yes, he was definitely, _completely_ naked—

Oh.

Images and sensations flashed through his mind: sweat rolling down prominent cheekbones, intense heat, ragged breath escaping between full lips, overwhelming pleasure, wine-colored eyes rolling back in ecstasy—

He remembered where he was now.

He’d done it. He’d actually done it.

Well, the drinks had probably given him some courage, but either way…

Anyway, where was Sebastian? William certainly did not see him in the room.

The grumpy, unloved part of William scowled and crossed his arms. _“Perhaps he’s run off,”_ this William said. _“He realized how stupid it was to sleep with you and wishes to be as far away as possible. What a classic one-night stand. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”_

Despite his best efforts to ignore this voice, William began to feel doubt and discomfort. Had this entire thing been a mistake? Anxiously, he looked toward the door.

From the corner of his eye, a bright white object on the nightstand caught his attention.

It was a piece of paper, hidden slightly underneath the alarm clock. His name was written in the top left corner.

How had he not noticed that before?

Sliding the paper out from underneath the alarm clock, he read:

 

> _William,_
> 
> _First of all, I hope you do not mind that I am calling you “William.” I’m only assuming that we are on a first name basis now._
> 
> _You were still sleeping, so I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ve gone to make breakfast, and you are welcome to join me when you wake up. I’m guessing that you won’t want to wear your tuxedo again, so I’ve left a robe for you at the foot of the bed. But if you would rather change into your suit, it is in my wardrobe, the first hanger on the left._
> 
> _I have ironed it for you, and your cufflinks are in the inside pocket._
> 
> _Sebastian_
> 
> _P.S. I noticed a scratch on one of your cufflinks. If you would like, I can buff that out for you._

After reading the message, William read it again, taking pleasure in Sebastian’s attentiveness.

Honestly, this didn’t feel like a mistake. Because William from yesterday evening would have shamefully collected his clothes and left as quietly as possible.

But the William of now put on the robe.

Upon opening the door, the scent of sausage and eggs and _tea_ immediately overtook him. He gave a sigh of pleasure and allowed his nose to guide him. After walking down a hallway, he found what he was looking for.

Like the bedroom, the kitchen had a classy yet lived-in feel. The space seemed to be designed and organized for efficiency, which William could certainly appreciate. And it made sense; Sebastian had mentioned that he liked to cook, hadn’t he?

The man himself was at the stove tending to the eggs and the sausage that William was smelling. This position gave William a view of his pale, muscular back. As well as his backside. He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing for some reason, but William found that he was not surprised or bothered in the slightest.

There was a window to Sebastian’s right, just over the sink, and it bathed his body in warm, golden sunlight, accentuating his form and shining in his soft, black hair.

The image itself was like art to William’s eyes. Like viewing a painting in a gallery and the canvas beckoning him to step through. But unlike if he were in a gallery, he was there in the painting himself. A part of the scene rather than an outside observer.

A feeling (strangely like triumph) swelled in William’s chest. He stepped into the kitchen.

Hearing his foot against the tile, perhaps, Sebastian turned and looked William in the eye. “Good morning,” he greeted. He gave a glance at William’s robe. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

William squinted in amusement. “I see you have, as well.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Sorry. I only have one robe, and you’re wearing it.”

A feeling of warmth grew under William’s skin, in his chest and in his cheeks. He was wearing Sebastian’s robe—the same one he probably wore on a regular basis. Perhaps it was a foolish thing to blush over, but he found some sort of wonderful satisfaction in it. He smirked. “Don’t apologize. If you ask me, the lack of robe suits you better.”

Flashing William a sly expression, Sebastian turned back to the stove. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

When Sebastian continued on with the cooking, William approached him. “Mind if I help with breakfast? Perhaps I could learn some tricks from you.”

Sebastian looked at William again, and he gave him that fantastic, lopsided smile. “Be my guest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! :D
> 
> For this story, I did something kind of out of my comfort zone with the elaborate setting and the focus on internal conflict. I also wanted to experiment with my favorite pairing: I asked myself "how would they interact if they were both human and didn't have the demon-reaper issues holding them back? Besides the hate-love thing that many people associate with these two, what else makes up this pairing?"
> 
> I hope that I was successful when dealing with these things, but I also know that the story isn't perfect. (Of course, nothing is lol) I probably would have worked on it a lot more if I hadn't wanted to upload it today specifically. With that being said, I'm always open to tips and ideas for improvement! :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my story! I hope 2017 has wonderful things in store for you!
> 
> **EDIT: Illustration by Fuure on tumblr (aka Rainlie on tumblr). Please give him all the love! He's the best!**  
>  <3


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